


no grave can hold my body down/i’ll crawl home to her

by funkymoths



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Typical Feral Lesbians, F/F, Kinda, Monsters in love, extended metaphors about being buried alive, meet cutes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 06:52:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19388782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funkymoths/pseuds/funkymoths
Summary: it was like being buried alive





	no grave can hold my body down/i’ll crawl home to her

**Author's Note:**

> title is from work song by hozier, because I’m a lesbian

There are two things you first notice when you discover you’ve been buried alive in a coffin. One, The everpresent, overbearing darkness. And two, the crushing closeness and claustrophobia you feel that makes you worry your lungs will collapse under their own weight.

That, Karolina felt, was what it was like being in love with Manuela Dominguez.

Their meeting had been a chance encounter on the tube, a one in a million shot of happening. Karolina had gone down to the tube one evening, longing for the tight embrace of its walls that her flat couldn’t provide her, and tasting the lingering fear of the passengers. It was the fear of a tunnel collapse, and being caught in that tiny carriage for the rest of your short life as you slowly run out of oxygen.

She almost wouldn’t have noticed the short, anemic looking woman sitting across the carriage from her. Karolina was pleasantly chatting to the man next to her, watching with glee as he choked and gasped for air, pressing at invisible walls he believed were suffocating him. The woman across the car watched with the passing interest and amusement one might give to a magician performing on a street corner.

When the man finally collapsed, the woman stood up. She was short in stature, wearing dark clothing and bulky square sunglasses. Even with the glasses, she was squinting, as though the fluorescent lights were too much to bear. She took the seat next to Karolina, on the opposite side of the likely dead man.

She introduced herself as Manuela, said she was a scientist. Around them, the carriage lights flickered, just a bit. Manuela was cocky, and a bit of a bastard, loudly complaining about odd things. One of the subjects of her scorn was, oddly enough, the sun itself. The sun, Manuela explained, was a burning and scorching false idol that was a failed attempt to keep out the darkness. According to her, the darkness was the one true god. It was what everything becomes in the end, after all.

At first, Karolina entertainer the idea that Manuela might’ve been a vampire. She looked as though she hadn’t step into direct sunlight in years. Still, Karolina found her enticing, like an open grave with no one lying in it yet.

Manuela smiled at her, and the rest of the carriage lights went out. Someone hollered in the distance. Clumsily, Karolina fumbled got Manuela’s hand in the pitch nothingness, holding it in a claustrophobic embrace. Karolina could feel the closeness in the carriage too; not just the walls which she knew were every so slowly inching together, but with Manuela. In the dark, Karolina could feel every slight detail of Manuela’s delicate fingers and palm.

When the train stopped, they went their separate ways; Karolina in the direction of her flat, Manuela to a dark alleyway that seemed to have no end.

Still, Karolina could not stop thinking about this odd woman. She was certain she’d never see her again, until she ran into Manuela at a cafe, on the tube again, and at a farmer’s market, surprisingly. Every time, Manuela brought with her a looming darkness that coated her surroundings like thick paint. It was as though whatever controlled the universe was tugging in the strings, pulling them together. By the fourth time around, Karolina asked for her number.

They went out for dinner. Manuela took them to a fancy sushi restaurant, and they talked for hours about all manner of things. Karolina could feel herself falling for Manuela; it was something about the way other woman talked, her vague religious metaphors mixed with scientific jargon.

One date turned into five, which turned into ten, which turned into fifteen, and so on. Karolina forgot how nice closeness with another person was. Every time she saw Manuela, it took her breath away, like the wonderful sensation of being buried alive.

The Dark and The Buried mingled so well together, it was almost as though they were serving the same power. What this power was, Karolina couldn’t name. It was the power of the darkness of Karolina’s room, and the suffocating closeness of skin on skin, of the firm press of Manuela’s lips on her own.

“I have to go on a business trip.” Manuela said one day. They were sitting on Karolina’s couch, absentmindedly watching some dumb romantic comedy. Karolina’s arms were wrapped around Manuela, trailing her fingers up and down her back. “It won’t be long, just a couple of months.”

“Mhm.”

“It’s going to be up in Norway. A town called Ny Alesund.” Manuela explained. “I hope you won’t miss me too much.” She teased, pressing a kiss to Karolina’s lips.

“I won’t.” Karolina lied, already pulling her girlfriend closer to her.

Manuela did go to Ny Alesund, eventually, and it felt like the coffin was being opened, the bright sunlight shining in Karolina’s eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> if you wanna talk about obscure monster lesbian rarepairs, my tumblr is units214!


End file.
